One and Done
by Laura Ann Yates
Summary: A re-write of the 'best handshake ever' scene in 5.03. What if Lanie had come up from the morgue to meet Esposito and instead of finding her man, found Castle and Beckett 'shaking hands'.


_**A/N: **__A little behind but this is next on the list I'm working through and still adding too._

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**_CASTLE'S POV_**

You close your hand around hers, the smile on your lips lighting up your whole face. You wish you were anywhere but here. The loft, her apartment, your office down at the old haunt. Anywhere but here. "I so wish I could kiss you right now." You whisper, wary of your surroundings.

"Yeah, I know." The words dancing off of her lips as her eyes flick around you both.

"This is me, softly, touching your face, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss." You see the confusion flick across her face, the words _'what are you doing?'_ dancing in the depth of her eyes, before she lights up in the way you know she only started to after your appearance,

"And this is me kissing you back, running my hands through your hair." Her thumb caresses the back of your hand, imitating the movements of her hands through your hair. Imitating the feelings you have only felt a handful of times before.

"Best handshake ever."

"Yeah." You feel her fingers squeeze yours for a brief second before she pulls away and turns back to study the murder board. You take this as your cue to leave and slowly take a few steps back, your eyes trained on her. Always

* * *

**_BECKETT'S POV_**

"Girl, what was that?" You spin on your heal only to find yourself face to face with the owner of the voice, a certain medical-examiner-come-best-friend that goes by the name of Lanie Parish.

"What was what?" You feign innocence. Ignorance. You know she won't buy it.

Your limp efforts prove futile as she returns "Don't play dumb with me. I know what I saw. I know what I heard." You look for an excuse. Anything to get you out of this mess. Nothing. "Why didn't you tell me that Castle's the guy? This is not something you keep from your best friend. I need details. Spill."

You sigh. Game up. "Yes, Castle's 'the guy', and I didn't tell you because I- We wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while. To bask in everything new to us before Gates finds out and stops Castle from working with me. I don't care if this sounds pathetic but I'm not sure if I can go back to working how I did before I met him. I can't work without him."

"Then what the hell are you doing saying stuff like that here where anyone can hear you?" you know she has a point. You knew the risks before the words left your mouth.

"I know. I know. I was- We were careless. But I love him Lanie. You have no idea what he does to me. The way his smile can light up a room. The way his jokes have made my work, my life, easier in every possible way. During my mom's funeral, during the wake, my dad and I escaped and ended up on Coney Island, we spent the day there just laughing and remembering all the good times we had with her. We made a little stick man out of twigs and rocks to remind us that 'even on the worst days, there is the possibility of joy' and I'd forgotten that, until Castle came along and reminded me. He knows what to say to me, when I need a hug or a friend or when I need space. He gets me." You don't care that you're spilling your guts to here in the middle of the precinct. You don't care that anyone, including Gates, could be listening to you, much in the way Lanie listened in on you and Castle.

"Aw honey. He's the one isn't he? Your one and done?" You see a proud look cross her face. You found him, after Sorenson, Demming, and Davidson, and all the ones before, you never thought you would find him. But you did. The same man that wrote the books that guided you through the grief all those years ago. The same man that reopened the one case you swore never to look at again. The nine-year-old-on-a-sugar-rush that doesn't listen, that, on most days, you want to kill with your own bare hands.

"Yeah, I think he is."

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_**A/N:** I don't know if the second part with Lanie seems out of character for Beckett? Opinions._


End file.
